


invisible string (gave me no compasses, gave me no signs)

by haetnimie



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, Red String of Fate, Romance, lapslock, ot13 is here to a varying degree, some more than others but still here, this took a while to format oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haetnimie/pseuds/haetnimie
Summary: jihoon is able to see everyone's red strings, including his broken one. he thought he was the only one with that problem until he meets soonyoung.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi & Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	invisible string (gave me no compasses, gave me no signs)

seeing everyone’s red strings is something that runs in the family. “you get it from your dad’s side,” his grandmother would jokingly tell him, “and it’s something that’s even older than me! jihoon, you’re the oldest of your brothers…set an example and treat this special ability with responsibility, alright?”

yet everyone’s strings are unbelievably tangled. they curl around trees, benches, trash cans, desks, packages, bicycles — _everything_. in a way, it’s kind of beautiful, the way the twists and turns decorate this otherwise mundane world. the red accents everyday things, catching his attention and diverting his gaze to the most unorthodox places. there’s some string tied up in empty boxes outside someone’s doorsteps; there’s some string tied around the bus stop next to the park. he finds himself staring, marveling at that red string, about how amazing it is that this single strand ties two people together.

he found himself getting into the habit of taking pictures of them. of course, if someone didn’t have this ability, they would just see random shots of scenery — but to jihoon, they were places that were made appealing by the red strings _he_ could see. those photos were for him and him alone.

although the red strings are beautiful, his family’s responsibilities come first. “it’s our family’s duty to untangle any string we find,” his grandmother told him the first time he saw one. “it may be difficult, but we _must_ try. the only exception is if the string looks like it’s about to break. if that’s the case, _leave it_.”

he wishes he took those words seriously.

this memory takes place in his childhood days, when he was around ten. he remembers it clearly — it was the park near his elementary school, where every kid gathers to play. there were these beautiful trees that were always laced with red strings, and the way that the sunlight filters through the leaves, speckling those strings with light, makes them jihoon’s favorite sight.

he’d found a string wrapped around a branch, making it seem like it was decorated for the holidays. he snaps a picture out of reflex before slinging the camera’s strap around his body and beginning his expedition to untangle it. he’s gotten good climbing up trees, mostly because most of the string he’s untangled thus far have been around trees. he doesn’t get _how_ they get stuck there, but he doesn’t mind, because the view from up above was pretty neat. you could see so many strings up there. he takes so many pictures from that viewpoint that the film almost always runs out.

“this is going to be difficult,” he mutters to himself when he finally gets to the string in question. his plan is to inch the string forward, bunching it together until it reaches the tip of the branch and letting it fall freely. thank god the string’s a little loose, although the crawling forward with it is definitely tricky. still, he’s done this so many times that —

a strong gust of winds shakes him, and although he can hang on to the branch, his camera doesn’t. it swings out to follow the dangerous breeze, and jihoon’s heart leaps. when the wind stops, it threatens to swing into the branch, probably breaking it. no, this camera’s too precious to him, he can’t let that happen! he stretches out his hand before it can crash into the branch, catches it, and…

what he remembers is another strong wind that hurls against him, and with only one hand on the branch, he loses his grip. his other hand lets go, and he falls down the tree, clutching his camera close to his chest. he doesn’t hit any other branches, nothing that could possibly soften his fall; he just lands onto the ground on his back, the air knocked out of him completely. _thud_.

there was a part of the string fluttering down towards him, like cherry blossoms in the spring. he would have admired how beautiful it looked while it floated down, but the sight is _weird_. wouldn’t the string stay in place? why is it following him? his eyes quickly go to the branch, but the string’s _gone_. not a single trace is left of it.

he has a bad feeling about this. he sits up, looking at the string — _oh my god, it’s broken!_ he could feel his heart pounding and knocking against his chest, threatening to escape. he can’t think of anything, can’t figure out what to do. the frayed end of the string won’t give him any answers.

curiosity gets the best of him in the end, and he follows the broken string, wondering if it’ll take him far — but surprisingly, it stops right away. it stops near him. it stops _at_ him.

he tries not to pay attention to his own red string, to the one delicately wrapped around his wrist. he figured that fate, the idea that his grandmother insisted on, would be enough for him. he didn’t want to spoil anything, to accidentally find _the one_ when it wasn’t time yet.

but when the broken string leads to the one tied to him, he realizes the most heart-wrenching thing — he’s lost his connection to the person that was supposed to be on the other side.

* * *

_present day._ ****

“we’re going to be late,” seokmin whines at his two brothers, “and it’s the first day!”

“you can’t see the string we’re trying to fix, so why are you waiting around for us?” chan says, tugging at the string wrapped around a water fountain. it’s almost loose. “just go.”

this makes seokmin justifiably upset. “i know i’m the one percent exception to the ‘string gene’, but we’re still _brothers_ and we’re all heading in the same direction!”

“alright, alright.” jihoon loves his younger brothers, but sometimes they’re just _too much_. “we’ll go with you, seokmin. chan, apologize to him.”

jihoon’s glaring holes into chan. the youngest hopes he doesn’t stutter on his apology. “sorry, hyung. i don’t actually mean it.”

jihoon finally gets the string from around the water fountain, and the tension between the two people connected to it straightens it out. he lets out a sigh of relief. “it’s good. let’s go now.”

his family is an oddity — besides the ‘string gene’, that is. relatives talk about seokmin’s blindness to the strings around them; relatives talk about how unfortunate it is that jihoon’s string leads absolutely nowhere.

when he had told his grandmother about the incident that day, she told him that in the case of a broken string, everyone with their ability could see it. however, there are a select few who could _only_ see broken strings. they were the only ones who knew which pairs of broken strings were supposed to be connected; they were the only ones who could tie them back together.

“those people,” she said with a shake of her head, “are very hard to come by. you could count how many of them that have been in our family on one hand. the last one was your great grandfather.”

jihoon had silently hoped that seokmin would be like their great grandfather, but he shows no sign of it. he’s never mentioned the broken string. and besides his immediate family, he doesn’t know of any distance relatives that could possibly have it.

he’s accepted that it’s a lost cause a long time ago.

they drop off chan at his middle school before seokmin and jihoon head to their high school. seokmin smiles when they see the familiar buildings looming over them when they get to the gate. to jihoon, it’s an exceptionally beautiful mess of red strings.

“my first year of high school…” seokmin muses. “hyung, will i be okay?”

“you’ll do great, of course.” he gives his younger brother a pat on the back. “seriously, i know everyone says this, but just be yourself. _a lot_ of people will want to be friends with you.”

“what about the baseball team? do you think i’ll make it?”

“if they don’t let you in, they’re stupid for doing so.” jihoon’s lips stretch in a teasing grin. “but you know, if it doesn’t work out, the photography club is always open. it’s beginner-friendly.”

“i’m not as good as you though.” seokmin looks back at the buildings, and on any other occasion they could be seen as daunting, but the lush greenery and clear blue skies of a typical spring day make it more inviting. it’s the perfect scenery for a first day. “i should go, huh? there’s an assembly for first years soon. see you after school!”

“see you.”

seokmin disappears from his sight, and jihoon sighs. now that he’s a second year, he’s got to climb the stairs to the second floor where all of his grade’s classrooms were.

* * *

the first day of school is always the same — introductions, expectations, and getting a feel for the new classroom. but now that that’s over with, jihoon gets to go to one of his favorite places in the entire school.

the photography club meets right after school in their designated room. there’s computers and cameras strewn all over the place, a door leading to the dark room adjacent to the entrance. boxes of props and equipment litter the back wall, as well as rolled up backdrops. there are photos from previous projects covering every square inch of the space, but the main attraction’s the row of group pictures near the front of the room.

“there he is!” as soon as jihoon steps into the room, jeonghan ambushes him immediately, tightly wrapping his arm around jihoon’s shoulders. “i haven’t seen you in a while!”

jihoon manages to free himself from jeonghan’s hold eventually. he knows that jeonghan’s a rather…playful character, but he doesn’t know what to do when he’s dragged into it _completely_. another senior in the club, on the other hand…

“that’s right, jihoon didn’t hang out with us during break,” joshua complains as jihoon takes a seat right next to him. they’re partners in crime, jeonghan and joshua. it’s scary just how much trouble they could stir up together. he’s not as bad, though. “we’ve _got_ to hang out at some point this year, though! you know us third years are only here for a little while longer.”

“you make it sound like you’re about to go into your retirement homes. even if we can’t, we have that end-of-the-year club trip, though.” jihoon tries hard not to let out a chuckle at wonwoo’s rebuttal, although a small grin does set in. wonwoo’s the same age as jihoon, a second year just like him. they were also the only two people who joined the club last year — it made the seniors more partial to them, more attached. as the oldest in his household, jihoon finds himself thinking of them as his honorary older brothers.

“oh, but i want to hang out _besides_ that,” jeonghan says. “besides, you know _seungcheol’s_ picking our camping spot. knowing him, he’ll make us hike up a whole mountain — ”

“and what about it?” seungcheol enters the room, arms crossed in a way that challenges jeonghan’s statement. “i think we could get some nice views somewhere really high up!”

there’s some murmuring in the hallway, and their attention turns to the oldest of their club, the new club president, still standing near the door. seungcheol’s smile stretches wide. “there’s some people that have already asked to join, and _of course_ i said they could. don’t be shy — come on in.”

seongcheol makes room for the three people to shuffle in. he gestures for them to introduce themselves.

“i’m kim mingyu, first year.”

“i’m boo seungkwan, and i’m a first year, also. mingyu and i are in the same class.”

“i’m kwon soonyoung. i’m a second year who just transferred here.”

jihoon could see the tangled mess of strings behind mingyu and seungkwan, trailing into the hallway. and then he follows soonyoung’s —

“jihoon? are you good?” wonwoo asks. “you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

jihoon could see the end of soonyoung’s string, the way it follows him for just a few feet — because after that, it leads to no one. soonyoung’s string was _broken_.

* * *

“so a new transfer student’s string is broken?” chan scratches the back of his head, looking rightfully confused. “the odds of that are…”

“i know — _low_.” jihoon finishes his transaction at the vending machine they usually stop at on their way home. a can of coke falls down for him. “that’s the first one i’ve ever seen…besides mine, that is.”

“where’s he from?”

“some town two, three hours away.”

“do you think someone outside of our immediate family, you know, broke it…?”

“maybe.”

“or maybe that person’s supposed to be yours, hyung.” jihoon snaps his gaze over to seokmin, who quickly takes a sip of his strawberry milk. “i mean, if it’s _super_ unlikely, don’t you think that’s also an option?”

_of course_ he’s wondered if that’s the case. he wonders if fate had tried to fix his mistake…or if it’s playing some cruel trick on him.

* * *

“i know it’s only the first week of official club meetings, but we have to start thinking about the end-of-the-year showcase.” seungcheol gestures over to joshua. “our vice president will talk about it.”

“just to recap and also to inform the new members, the end-of-the-year showcase is a collection of works by different arts clubs from high schools in this area. they range from paintings, pictures, films, sculptures — just about anything made by students. to enter, you have to submit a portfolio that a committee will then look over. the ones they pick will be shown at the showcase, and will be displayed around the lobby of the local art museum for a _month_.” joshua takes a brief pause. “our club has been trying to get something into the showcase since our conception seven years ago, but none have been picked so far. still, we can’t be discouraged by that! we’re starting early this year because seungcheol has decided on something special regarding our club’s submission.”

“that’s right. thank you, joshua.” seungcheol takes over from there. he puts a clear plastic cup on top of his desk, shaking the folded pieces of paper inside. jihoon could connect the dots from there. “i thought about what would set up apart, and i decided that we’re going to submit a collaboration project! what i want from each pair to do is to compile a portfolio of just about anything you want — no limits here. a week before the submissions deadline, we’ll vote for the best one, and that’ll be our club’s official submission to the committee. _also_ , before anyone asks, we’re going to pick partners randomly, so that we could work out of our comfort zone, things like that. there’s pairs of numbers written on here. if you have the same one, you’re partners.”

seungcheol takes his pick, then jeonghan, then joshua, then wonwoo, then soonyoung, and finally jihoon. he doesn’t hesitate on taking one out — whatever his fate may be, he’s just got to accept it. he passes it on to seungkwan right next to him.

the sound of them unfolding their papers fills the room, followed by jeonghan and joshua giving each other a high-five — _of course they would be partners, even through randomly picking_. seungcheol calls over seungkwan with a leaderly grin. that leaves three people for jihoon. he looks down at his paper — ‘1’. who could be —

“hey, we’re partners!” the person nudging his shoulder is none other than soonyoung, holding out his paper for him to see. sure enough, that ‘1’ ties them together. soonyoung smiles, one that almost blinds jihoon.

he doesn’t know what fate’s doing at all. it’s a little frustrating.

* * *

“it’s too early for this.” jihoon says before slipping into a drawn-out yawn. their high school looms above them again, painted with oranges and yellows. he usually doesn’t get to see such a pretty sight, but it’s only nice for a couple of seconds before he remembers it’s only six-thirty in the morning. “your captain’s something else for making you practice when the sun’s barely out.”

“yeah, but he says all the new team members have to do it for a week, just to get used to them,” seokmin replies, visibly more awake than his older brother. he would say that the excitement from passing try-outs and joining the baseball team was what made seokmin much more alive at this time, but he’s almost always like this. “you and chan could have slept in. you didn’t _have_ to come with me.”

jihoon shakes his head. “i _know_ you like walking with us, seokmin. of course we’ll go with you.”

seokmin gives jihoon a large grin before dashing off to the boys’ locker room to change. jihoon yawns again. he gets ready to turn to the main school building —

“ah, jihoon!”

the loud, perky voice startles him awake — literally. it almost feels like caffeine rushing through his veins. he turns around, wondering who it could be…and from the distance, he could only assume it was soonyoung that was standing at the school’s front gates from the sight of his broken string.

soonyoung’s red string is horribly distracting. it floats in the breeze, dancing about in a way that almost makes it seem _happy_ that it had no attachments. of course any untangling of a string requires the utmost carefulness, but…broken strings happen. it’s not totally impossible. it’s just weird — if the strings signify soulmates, a strong connection between two people, _why_ would they be made to break? _why_ would something like that be allowed to happen? whoever was running the whole red string business — _it’s fate, probably_ — didn’t really think it through.

and to make it so that so very few people could fix it…well, the more he thought about it, they _were_ supposed to make sure nothing breaks in the first place, and most of the time, that _is_ the case. broken strings are a one in a million chance, so there doesn’t need to be an over-abundance of those who can tie people back together. still, for there to be a drought of them while _he_ had a broken string and _soonyoung_ had a broken string…it’s mean. it’s twisted. it’s really, really, really…unfortunate.

soonyoung gets to him, but he takes a couple of seconds to take a breath from the mad dash he went through. jihoon finds it odd that he went through all that trouble. “you know,” he says, “you didn’t have to _run_ over here. i would have waited.”

“but where’s the fun in that?” soonyoung asks with a laugh. “anyway, i didn’t think you’d be here at this time. you don’t seem like a morning person.”

“i’m not. it’s just that my brother just got on the baseball team and they have morning practice. i just tagged along.”

“i see.” soonyoung smiles; to jihoon, the way he presents it is so unique to him alone. it’s interesting to look at. “well, good thing you’re here then! you left the club so quickly yesterday. by the time i was done talking to everyone else, you were gone! i wanted to ask for your number.”

jihoon’s eyes widen. “my number?”

“yeah, for the project?”

“…right.”

why did he think it was for anything else? that was stupid on his part. they take out their phones and exchange them. soonyoung’s contacts are rather funny — they’re formal, consisting of everyone’s full names, and his parents’ names are written politely. he figures he should go with the flow. he types in his number, sets his name to ‘lee jihoon’, and gives soonyoung his phone back at the same time soonyoung’s handing jihoon’s phone back to him.

jihoon takes a look at the newly made contact — ‘kwon soonyoung’, surrounded by five emojis on both sides of his name. he raises an eyebrow at them. “you like tigers or something?”

“haha, yeah, i think they’re pretty neat!” soonyoung holds up a hand, curling his fingers like a tiger’s claw. “don’t i seem like one, too?”

jihoon doesn’t know what to say. “i think you’re a human before you’re a tiger.”

“it’ll catch on someday!”

_he’s…really weird._

“speaking of the project…” soonyoung brings jihoon back to reality. “do you have any ideas for it? anything at all?”

he can’t explain the entire purpose of his pictures to soonyoung. his grandmother told him that it’s forbidden to tell people outside of their family about their ability. “if we do, people will ask us many questions about it,” she reasoned. “we’re observers, helpers. we aren’t fate itself. the best thing to do is to stay quiet and to let fate do the work it needs to in people’s lives.”

he _does_ have an idea on how they could start, though. “no, but i have a question that might lead us to some direction. what type of pictures do you usually take?”

“oh, stuff like this!” soonyoung pulls up the photos on his phone, eagerly showing them off to jihoon. they’re vibrant, lively candids, ranging from someone scoring a goal in their soccer game to a band playing their song intensely on stage. they’re still images, but jihoon could _see_ them moving. they aren’t messy, though, like some candids could be. while some could be blurry or confusing, you could _tell_ what motions people were going through in soonyoung’s pictures. they were definitely in the moment, but it felt like soonyoung’s eyes were poised to snap a picture at the right time.

his eyes were like a tiger waiting for its prey. he thinks he gets it now, but it’s still kind of weird.

“they’re really good — i mean it. you’ve got an eye for that type of stuff. wow, you have a lot, too.” that’s all jihoon could muster up before he figures it’s his turn now. he takes out his own phone, showing his set of pictures to soonyoung. “these are mine.”

compared to soonyoung, they’re rolling hills, towering skyscrapers, an empty play structure, and overall everyday scenery taken at meditated angles. jihoon’s pictures are specific to what he can see, but he guesses they could seem rather plain to someone without his eye for red strings. luckily, he’s prepared a sort of explanation for them, one for outside his family. it’s not so far from the truth, though. “they seem like random things to take pictures of, but i think of them as places thousands of people pass by. in a way, passing by them ties all those people together. that’s what makes them worth the photo.”

“it makes sense,” soonyoung comments, and jihoon breathes a sigh of relief. ( _why was i even the slightest bit worried in the first place?_ ) “but you know, even with that explanation, i think it’s pretty interesting! it shows just how observant you are, jihoon.”

“thank you?”

“i swear it’s a compliment.”

“well, from what i could see, we have totally different styles,” jihoon points out. “i guess we’ll need some other idea.”

“even so, we should try and incorporate both of our styles, right? even if they’re different?”

“yeah…yeah, we could.”

“it may not be an idea, but we’ve figured out one aspect of our project! that’s some type of progress, if you ask me.”

soonyoung laughs again. he was a really unpredictable person. a part of jihoon wants to get to know him better.

* * *

while the showcase was an overall project of the photography club, they would frequently fulfill the student body’s requests for them to photograph different events. this weekend, jihoon’s tasked with taking pictures of the dance team’s first show. he’s really not the best with this type of stuff, but luckily, soonyoung’s tagged along. “i know i’m in the photography club, but i like seeing what other stuff goes on at school!” he gave jihoon a wink while singing his name next to his on the sheet with the dance team’s request. “you don’t mind, right, jihoon?”

“i’ve gotten _better_ at pictures like this since last year,” jihoon tells soonyoung as they stand near the side of the stage, adjusting his camera’s settings. “but it’s not anything like yours. thank god you’ve got a camera, too.”

“come on, we capture things in a different way, in different viewpoints!” soonyoung looks down at him; jihoon frowns, but there’s no real malice in it. “not because you’re — hey, it’s a good thing!”

jihoon tries his best not to crack, although a grin threatens to show up on his face. he just thinks it’s funny how soonyoung immediately tried to fix it. he tries to suppress that grin by looking at the program in his hand, reading out the names of the first performers. “it looks like the first is a duo, jun and minghao. the song is ‘my i’…huh, never heard of it.”

just as he says it, two people — the people he mentioned — step out onto the stage. they were dressed in black and white, and between them is a white string connecting them together.

“woah.” soonyoung holds his camera up, though he doesn’t take anything. “wait, jihoon, why don’t we do something like that for our project?”

“like what? black and white?”

“no, the string. like that story about red strings of fate. kinda like in that movie _your name_ — have you seen it?”

_someone is literally playing with me right now._ before he could say anything, the lights dim, and the music starts.

their dance is intricate, weaving and toying with the string between them, incorporating it into their every move. they’re focused on getting tangled in it only to free themselves right after. they move through it with fluidity, precision; they know how it works and how to move in and out with ease. the string is not a hinderance to them at all, but something they relish in. it’s something they _respect_. they dance with such unparalleled delicacy that jihoon could only stare in awe.

is that what if feels like to be attached to someone? to go through lengths to fix that string between them so that in the end, they could see each other? there must be something comforting in the slight tugs and tensions the string brings, the feeling of knowing someone is on the other side.

junui and minghao are equals made stronger by being connected to the same string. they were made for each other not only in the choreography, but by the red string that only jihoon could see as well. they were fated to do this dance together and to _be_ together.

but of course, jihoon doesn’t say anything about it. he can’t say he doesn’t envy them, because he does. he envies the promise of someone out there waiting for him. but it was _his_ mistake he made all those years ago. he can’t erase it. he just has to live with it.

he’s so focused on the strings that he doesn’t have any pictures. it’s only when the two finish, bow, and exit the stage does the panic of it settle in. he turns to soonyoung, worry lining his words. “soonyoung, i’m sorry, but i…i didn’t get any pictures. that’s my fault for getting distracted. i’ll get some of the next performance, i promise.”

“it’s okay, i took some!” soonyoung shows the last one he took, the very end of their choreography. he gives jihoon a pat on the shoulder. “don’t worry about it. i almost forgot, too. they were really good.”

the thoughts that went through his head wouldn’t go away. they were still lingering, the music continuing to ring in his ears. something like that just can’t be dropped, and he _knows_ why that’s so. it’s a pretty obvious reason. he might as well bring this up before the next person goes on. “soonyoung, about that idea you had for our project…i think we should figure out how to do something with it. it’s a good idea.”

soonyoung looks surprised, though his smile doesn’t fade away. it gets bigger instead. “you think so?” jihoon nods. “alright! let’s talk about it more right after. i’m really excited now.”

that was easier than he thought. it’s a little ironic that the two people with broken strings would do something about the red strings of fate, but hey, he still knows a thing or two about it. he could silently bring it into the project as well. maybe it’ll make it into the showcase for real…that would be nice.

before he really, _really_ focuses on the show, he tells soonyoung one more thing. “i watched _your name_ , too.”

* * *

it’s weird being in the photography club’s room outside of its usual operations, but they’ve got to drop of the cameras they used and upload the photos they took of the show onto a computer before they leave. jihoon does most of the work there, partially as another apology for totally skipping the first performance.

as they’re clicking through the photos, but soonyoung tells him to stop at one of them, at a picture during jun and minghao’s performance. the one in black is pulling the string, and the one in white seems to follow its movement with a gracious leap. again, it’s a wonderful shot by soonyoung. he really timed that well.

“this would be nice for our project, don’t you think?” soonyoung asks, although he doesn’t look thoroughly convinced himself. jihoon waits. the other leans forward, trying to figure out what he was looking for. “well…i know you’re not _supposed_ to see the red string, but if it’s not there, the point doesn’t really get across, does it?”

jihoon almost laughs, but he holds it in. the red string between jun and minghao were there for _him_. tied to the same hands as the white string in their dance, the red string wraps around the one in black, bouncing up and down until it reaches the person in white. it’s a shame soonyoung can’t see how pretty it looks.

“what if it’s like…” soonyoung’s finger traces the white string from one end to another, making a straight line between the two. “no, but that’s _boring_. there’s nothing to it.”

“hm.” he might be on to something there. jihoon tries his hand at it, but this time tracing the red line he sees. around, up and down, and to the other side — it’s a bit more elaborate, but it’s what’s happening at that moment. “what about that?”

“wait, that’s…can you actually draw it, though?”

jihoon clicks on the pen tool. the red he picks out isn’t the best, nor does it really match, but that’s something they can fine tune later on. he traces it once more, leaving slight errors to make it seem like he was just free-handing it.

to soonyoung, this was breathtaking. “wow…now _that’s_ more like it! jihoon, where’d you come up with that sort of idea?!”

“it just kind of…felt right. i feel like the red string is a little dramatic, wrapping around objects and getting stuck around buildings or something. but even with all that, it’s still connected. it still leads back to your other half.” god, what was the point in saying all that? he doesn’t want to look at soonyoung’s face right now. “something like that, anyway.”

“hey, that was actually pretty good!” this takes jihoon by surprise. soonyoung pauses for a minute, clapping his hands together when it seems like he’s figured it all out. jihoon waits again. “the concept of a couple candids, but with the red string drawn like that all around their surroundings! it could definitely combine both of our styles. we could get some really cool pictures! what do you think?”

it’s true that it would work well. he’d set up the backdrop, soonyoung would set up a main focus. the red string ties the two together. it wouldn’t be too far off from what jihoon usually does, really. seriously, soonyoung —

the aura around soonyoung stuns jihoon into a contemplative silence. he tries to find a reason for it in soonyoung’s eyes, but he gets a billion answers. soonyoung’s expression is all types of enthusiastic. his passion is downright infectious; his creativity seems to know no bounds. they’re clearly two different people, but it’s commendable how quickly soonyoung seemed to figure out how to mesh their styles together into something interesting. all of it amazes jihoon, to be perfectly honest. there was something going on in his head, something wonderful and enticing.

this trance felt like a breath of fresh air. soonyoung is a change in pace, a hurricane to be reckoned with. it felt like soonyoung was tugging him along his whims, and jihoon _lets_ him. it’s so easy to do so. it’s like they’ll see something spectacular at the end of wherever they were going.

all of sudden, it seemed like soonyoung had made himself a known resident in his mind. jihoon felt compelled to _watch out_ for him. his first explanation would be soonyoung’s broken string, how glaringly obvious it was to him. could he — _should_ he — expect something more…?

_seriously, what the hell? why haven’t i said anything yet? suddenly paying attention to him like that…_

he could play off the red strings as something that strikes him creatively rather than something he could see — that’s easy enough. jihoon gives him a thumbs up. “let’s do it.”

* * *

there’s something great about the beach besides it’s usual attractions. it’s a common place to take pictures, but there’s so many subjects, so many moments at any given time. you get a different experience from each visit. it’s the perfect place to truly begin their project.

there’s one thing so off-putting about it, though. jihoon doesn’t like the sand. it’s rough, and it gets _everywhere_. his feet continually sink into it, and it makes it harder to walk. still, soonyoung’s somehow managed to walk a few feet ahead of him, beckoning him to keep going.

right. he’s the reason he’s stuck like this in all this sand. soonyoung had wanted to go to the beach conveniently near them — “it’ll be my first time seeing it since moving here! it’s no fun to go alone, though. jihoon, do you wanna come? i think we can do some project stuff there, too!”

they finally settle at a place a few feet away from where the sand turns a dark brown. the water rushes in, looking like it’ll get them, but it never does so. jihoon sits down on a towel he brought, trying to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. he holds his camera close, and he would have dozed off had it not been for soonyoung rushing past him.

from the corner of his eye, soonyoung’s shoes were left beside him. in a matter of seconds he hears a splash, followed by soonyoung’s laugh, which grows to be more and more of a pleasant sound by the day. soonyoung’s in the water, finding joy in the waves coming in. it’s like he’s a kid again.

the horizon draws jihoon’s attention next, especially those red strings — they’re carried by the breeze and sway in the air, billowing like curtains near an open window. they add a contrast to the dark blues of the ocean and the light blues of the sky. there’s a surfer whose string rides the waves just like them, and there’s a mother dipping her child’s feet in the water, her string connected to the father right next to her. because there were no obstacles, the strings were free to move as they pleased. surprisingly, no one got caught in anyone else’s. it was like nature knew not to do so.

but of course, his eyes go back to soonyoung’s the lone string hanging beside him as he rolls up his pants even more, getting ready to wade deeper into the water. now that he’s thought about it, he steals a glance at soonyoung’s belongings — _shoes, camera, phone…no towel_. he sighs, but he guesses he’ll just loan soonyoung the one he brought.

in the midst of all those tightly bound strings, soonyoung’s really stands out. before he knows it, he raises his camera up. jihoon focuses and snaps a picture. soonyoung’s looking off in the distance — but to him, it appears like he’s looking at all the red strings in the sky. it’s a special meaning for him alone.

_hm…it almost looks like he’s a model or something. he’s not_ not _good-looking._

he’ll play it off as a warm-up.

soonyoung spends a few more minutes in the water before finally coming back, looking satisfied on the way towards jihoon. jihoon hands him his towel without him having to even ask. soonyoung blinks in surprise. “ah…i knew i was forgetting something. is it alright if i use it?”

“i wouldn’t be handing it to you if i didn’t want you to.”

“haha, you’re right.” soonyoung takes it, wiping himself down before laying it out to dry. he looks around next, taking in his surroundings —

before he could finish looking around, a volleyball whizzes past him, missing his face by just a few _centimeters_. soonyoung can only stand there, dumbfounded, as jihoon tries to avoid getting hit, too. it lands near them, and before long, they could hear someone coming their way.

the person jogging towards their direction seems younger than the two of them. with the beach as his backdrop, he looks like someone that had just come out of a movie. when he stops in front of them, he gives a rather apologetic face. “ah, sorry about that. my friend seungkwan doesn’t have very good aim.”

the looks on their faces upon hearing such a familiar name makes the person tilts his head. “you know him?”

“yeah? he’s in a club that we’re” — soonyoung gestures to himself and jihoon — “a part of as well. the photography club!”

“ah, i see.” the person nods in response. he seems to be getting ready to get the ball, but the sound of displaced sand stops him.

seungkwan now runs towards them, breathing in a lot when he stands right next to the unknown guy. he waves at his seniors. “hey! i ended up realizing it was you two and i thought i should say hi…and also apologize for almost hitting you, as well. are you okay?”

“we’re fine,” soonyoung says. “really, we are! your friends says you have bad aim, but i think it’s pretty good if you’ve managed to miss us.”

“he said — hey, really?! come on, vernon, i’m _learning_ to play!” seungkwan pinches his friend’s cheek, but he reacts just a little. is he immune or just used to it? “you’re seriously…ah, well. i’m glad no one was hurt. i’ll try to be more careful.” his eyes then wander over to jihoon, and he spots the camera in his hands. “ah, right, you two are partners. are you working on your project?”

“sort of.” jihoon shrugs, getting distracted by the red strings once again. the one tied to seungkwan ends relatively close, stopping at vernon. if they’re out here hanging out together, it seems as if they get along well. they’re a perfect example of their project…wait a minute. “are you still going to play? do you mind being our models?”

“huh?” seungkwan scratches the back of his head. “are you sure about that? wait, what’s yours even about, then?”

“it’s a secret until voting day.” soonyoung winks at him. “but i like what jihoon’s thinking. do you think you’re up for it?”

seungkwan takes a look at vernon, who seems to be saying that if seungkwan’s fine with it, he’s fine with. it’s some type of telepathy — _they’re really made for each other, huh_. it doesn’t take long for seungkwan to respond. “alright. and we’ll be careful this time!”

seungkwan picks up the ball, and they all trek on over to a pretty open spot on the beach. from there, vernon stays on one side while seungkwan goes to the other side, soonyoung following the lead of the footprints he leaves behind in the sand. jihoon sticks with vernon.

“what are you guys going to do?” jihoon asks.

“well, seungkwan’s working on his serve.” vernon explains. “i’ll just try to receive them.”

jihoon’s watched enough of a certain anime to know what those words mean. he doesn’t ask anything else, getting himself ready instead. he knows soonyoung will get good shots of seungkwan; he’ll focus on making vernon look cool.

…that takes more work that he thought. the two playing move all over the place, and the photographers have to keep up with them. seungkwan aims the ball to the right, and vernon dives towards it. jihoon almost follows suit before remembering he doesn’t really need to. he’s played sports before — baseball, just like his brother — so he has stamina…but this was something else. they’re like _that_ anime’s duo, working of off each other really well. it felt like a whole different level.

and the sand — ugh, it feels like it’s working against them. it flies up when vernon lands, obscuring jihoon’s view for a bit. it’s hard to keep up because they sink in it _all the time_. there’s a new appreciation to be had for people who play beach volleyball, and seungkwan and vernon are no exception.

jihoon is used to the stagnant nature of his surroundings when taking photos, but right now there’s a lot to pay attention to. he _wants_ to get good pictures, but it means watching where seungkwan aims, reacting quickly to vernon’s response. it’s following the ball and predicting where it’ll go alongside them.

there’s an instance where the ball follows the red string between them, moving on a parabola straight out of a math textbook. jihoon lies down, points his camera up, vernon towering over the camera’s lens. the ocean is in perfect harmony with the string, which arcs over the clouds in the sky like a rainbow. before it all changes, jihoon takes a picture.

when it’s all over, vernon and seungkwan say goodbye before heading on home. the two photographers meet in the middle, and instinctively go to the galleries on their cameras, getting ready to discuss their pictures. it really is second nature.

jihoon shows him the one of the ‘vernon skyscraper’, since he has nothing else to possibly describe it. “we could draw the string doing something kind of like this,” he says, tracing the arc invisible to soonyoung.

“woah, that’s…that’s such a good idea! it’s going to look cool once we add it in.” soonyoung’s compliment makes jihoon’s heart skip a beat — why is that? “you really know how to use the space around you. it’s almost like you can _see_ the string for real.”

“haha, um…i was just aiming for where the sand met the sky in that picture, mostly.”

“well it’s a good thing, then! you know…” soonyoung flips through his pictures of seungkwan, a few where vernon are visible in the distance. “these two are might as well be connected by some sort of string. they work really well together. i used to play volleyball when i was a kid, but man…for someone just learning how to play, seungkwan knows what to do, and it’s amazing that vernon can pick it up right away.”

god, if only he knew. jihoon traces the red string again, and…it really must be nice. but his mind wanders back to the picture he took of soonyoung, and it reminds him of their shared fate, of the same unfortunate truth that is their broken strings.

normally he’d leave it at that, but a question pops into his head — _is that really the end for the both of us?_

* * *

soonyoung had called jihoon earlier that day sounding horribly sick. “it’s just a mild cold,” he’d said, “but my mom doesn’t want me to go anywhere today. we’ll have to go take pictures at another time.” jihoon said he understands and suggested they just work on editing their photos instead, something soonyoung agrees to. the speed at which he replied was _fast_ — it was just a few seconds after he’d read it. still, jihoon’s glad that they still get to do something productive today.

this means, however, that this is jihoon’s first trip to soonyoung’s house. he should bring something, right? what do you usually bring to someone who’s sick? those thoughts plagued his brain while he stood at the front of a convenience store until he finally decided on some vitamin water (specifically the dragonfruit one, a favorite flavor between the two) and some snacks.

soonyoung’s house is a just a little bit away from the outskirts of the city. it takes jihoon about thirty-five minutes to get there, but perhaps it would have been a quicker walk if he didn’t stop every few feet to check his phone and make sure he was going in the right direction. why did he walk, anyway? it’s only when he rounds the corner of the street that he figures it would have been much faster if he’d taken an uber or something.

when he gets there, he takes a deep breath. they’re just working on their project — what’s there to be worried about? he rings the doorbell.

soonyoung’s mother opens the door, and jihoon tries his best to look like he isn’t anyone bad. “hi, i’m lee jihoon. i’m in the same club as soonyoung.”

she smiles, and it’s the same as soonyoung’s. he sees where he gets it from now. “ah, right! he told me someone was going to stop by. come in, come in. you brought him something? i’m sure he’ll really appreciate it.”

when he enters, she points out where soonyoung’s door is. he gives his thanks before they part ways, and while soonyoung’s mother doesn’t hesitate in going back to whatever she was doing, jihoon finds himself standing in front of his door, unable to bring himself to do anything just yet.

_it’s his room, what’s the big deal? why am i_ nervous _? there’s nothing to worry about. we’re working on this project. it’s probably creepy that i’m just staring at his door. okay, i’m opening it now —_

jihoon knocks, and the person behind the door says to come in. soonyoung is sitting in his bed, a pile of tissue boxes beside him. a record player is on the opposite side with a tv mounted above it. but what’s most notable is the presence of a certain animal in the room’s decor — there’s tiger plushies living in every possible corner, a poster of a tiger on the door to his closet, and a giant tiger statue right next to the door. jihoon’s surprised at first, but…well, he can’t say he didn’t expect it.

he doesn’t look terrible, but he doesn’t look all that well, either. it was definitely a good idea to stay at home. jihoon greets him. “hey, how are you?”

“feeling a lot better now that you’re here!” jihoon’s face heats up — no way he’s getting sick, too? before he could check, soonyoung leaps out of his bed, gesturing to the table in the middle of his room. “well don’t just stand there. we’re here to work, right?”

“…yeah.” _snap out of it, jihoon_. the backpack he’d been carrying finally slips off, and he takes out his laptop, inserting their usb in and pulling up all their photos. of course, they would start working right away if he just hadn’t noticed that —

“oh, the tv.” soonyoung looks around for his remote to turn it off, but the song is a familiar sound to jihoon’s ears.

“ah, i like this anime.” the words escape before he could even think about them, although it isn’t false information. it’s a bittersweet story, but it reminds him of his childhood, of waking up every morning to go watch it. if he could remember it even now, it’s definitely left an impact on him. the opening is a song he finds himself singing from time to time.

“really?” soonyoung’s eyes twinkle. “me too! for some reason, i felt like rewatching it.”

“you can keep it on if you want. it can be background noise or something. i don’t mind.”

“alright, since you’re fine with it!”

jihoon’s watched that show so many times that the dialogue doesn’t distract him. besides, it’s a nice distraction from the fact that they’re mere centimeters apart. you’d think that he’d want to move away, trying to avoid soonyoung’s illness…but jihoon can’t help but stay put. it was almost like he’d regret it if he did, but regret from what?

soonyoung hums to the song when it comes on. it’s…sweet, like honey. if they went to karaoke or something, jihoon feels like he could sing really well. even when he stops, he can hear those faint notes, almost like background music to whatever they’re talking about.

_for fuck’s sake, jihoon, you’re doing something here._ right. when he reminds himself of that, that’s when he fully concentrates, elaborating on ideas for certain pictures or conveying soonyoung’s own vision for them. he focuses on the structure and the flow of everything, on what could be enhanced or toned down. those thousands of pictures dwindle into a few as they keep going, the ones they want in their portfolio saved into a folder of the same name. it takes a lot of energy on his part, but after a few hours, they’ve caught up on their work.

just in time, too. there’s a knock on the door before soonyoung’s mother opens it. “hey, i’ve prepared dinner! jihoon, would you like to stay and have some?”

“ah…” jihoon looks at the time — 7pm. he got here around 1pm. he was here for six hours?! “are you sure…?”

“of course!”

before he could say anything else, she reveals the tray she’s been holding, complete with two servings already. he can’t say no now, can he? they clear the table and she sets it down, telling jihoon that’s it not a problem at all, that she enjoys cooking and that they usually have such large portions anyway, so she’s more than happy to share. jihoon gives his sincerest thanks alongside soonyoung before she leaves the room.

when jihoon texts his brothers telling them to tell their mother that he’s having dinner at somebody else’s house, their chatroom explodes.

**_chan  
_ ** _hyung’s having dinner at soonyoung’s?  
_ _hahahaha what drama is this…_

**_seokmin  
_ ** _don’t eat too much of their rice hyung…  
_ _[emoticon]  
_ _[emoticon]  
_ _[emoticon]  
_ _[emoticon]  
_

**_jihoon  
_ ** _you don’t have to spam sad emoticons…  
_ _[emoticon]_

**_chan  
_ ** _it’s not like you don’t spam too  
_ _hyung did you say thank you??_

**_jihoon  
_ ** _i already did  
_ _brb_

**_chan  
_ ** _there he goes_

**_seokmin  
_ ** _i wonder if the food is good…_

**_chan  
_ ** _we’re having good food too! mom made some  
_ _really good stew today. she really cooks a lot for  
_ _us everyday, huh…we have to tell her we’re grateful,  
_ _hyung. i don’t think we say it enough. i know she’ll  
_ _appreciate it a lot._

**_seokmin  
_ ** _ok  
_ _you didn’t have to send a giant block of text tho  
_ _[emoticon]_

jihoon puts down his phone with a sigh. he should have just texted his mom directly. when he looks at the food, there’s some fried fish and soup, and the most wonderful part of it all — a heaping bowl of rice. he could definitely go for two or three more bowls of the same serving, but he won’t say anything. he picks up his spoon to dig in —

“oh my god.” he eyes a small plate next to soonyoung, kimchi piled high like a jenga tower. “that’s…”

“my mom’s kimchi is the best,” soonyoung says, mouth completely full of it. “she always gives me this much.”

“always?”

“always.”

“i know you said you liked kimchi, but…well, you do you.” jihoon finds it amusing. again, he picks up his spoon to dig in — “ah, you have some on your cheek.”

soonyoung gives jihoon a confused look, finding anything else _but_ that visible red streak. jihoon can’t help the chuckle leaving his mouth. he composes himself when soonyoung finally finds it and wipes it away.

“you know,” soonyoung says, going back to his food, “i’m glad we’re partners.”

that’s interesting — it makes jihoon… _happy_? “really?”

“yeah, and that we became friends because of it, too. you’re a really good friend, jihoon, the best first friend i could ever make since getting here.”

the word ‘friend’ seems to sting a bit, which confuses him. it’s not a bad thing. he’s glad that they’re friends. “you’re a good friend, too. i mean it.”

“wow…such sentimental words from you!” soonyoung laughs.

“would you rather not hear it at all?”

“no! i’m glad you did. it just feels nice. ah, seriously, hanging out like this…it’s fun.”

“yeah, and your mom’s cooking is really good.”

“i’ll tell her that.” he pauses for a second. “we’ll hang out after too, right? after this whole project?”

the question…hadn’t crossed jihoon’s mind at all, but the answer is simple. “of course. it’s not like we’ll stop being friends once we turn it in.”

“good. to be honest, i don’t want to lose our friendship, jihoon. i like being beside you.”

the words have a nice ring to it, so much so that it replays in jihoon’s head over and over again. he nods, stuffing a spoonful of rice in his mouth. _‘i like being beside you.’_ he likes being besides soonyoung, too, way more than he could’ve ever imagined.

* * *

the familiar vending machine is a wonderful sight. jihoon gets his usual drink, taking a long sip before looking at both of his brothers. “sorry for making you two wait. soonyoung and i lost track of the time.”

“it’s all good,” seokmin says, getting about three sports drinks. “i got to rest a bit after practice! my legs don’t feel like they’ll collapse under me anytime soon.”

“have you thought about it, hyung?” chan takes a sip of his own sports drink before continuing. “about the possibility of the two of you, you know…”

the past few weeks have been a daze. jihoon’s free time is spent by soonyoung’s side just about anywhere with activity, taking photos of things jihoon would see some potential in. he points out a student looking out from a bridge and a string that could wrap around the railings, two people seemingly connected on the top and bottom of some stairs, a businessman’s string trailing behind him on the sidewalk. of course every instance of jihoon’s ideas about the placement of the strings isn’t imaginary to him, but soonyoung says it’s like the work of a genius.

“the more we hang out, the more i see how you pick your objects,” he told jihoon out of the blue one time. “you can see the bigger picture, so you know what detail to focus on.”

in a way, it felt like soonyoung was a tourist, trying to see everything their city has to offer, and he gets it, but the whirlwind of adventures is _a lot_. although — and he’s about to get real cheesy here — he doesn’t mind it, not at all. he sees how soonyoung hones in on what jihoon’s describing, and he takes the final shot with his perfect timing, resulting in photos of a spectacular everyday life. jihoon would play with the settings for a bit before taking anything, but soonyoung knows the right moment and doesn’t hesitate. anyone looking at the pictures could almost feel like they’re standing with them.

it’s kind of… _endearing_ to see how excited soonyoung gets when he gets it, a picture he says they _have_ to put it in their portfolio. his gummy smile — a detail that, once jihoon noted it, will not leave his mind — is obvious in showing how proud he is, and hey, he should be. what they end up creating is something indescribable, and when they get a really good picture, they stare at it in awe. the amount of those photos comes out to about a handful each time they go out, but it’s an unspoken truth between the two of them that those were worth while every time.

that silent communication surprises jihoon, considering they’ve only known each other for a short amount of time. he knows there’s moments where people just click, and it feels that way with soonyoung. there are instances when they’ll talk about the anime they’ve been watching, when they’ll text their stream of consciousness to each other at 3am in the morning. and when they feel like they’ve taken enough pictures for their project during an outing, they’ll often hang out for a couple more hours before going home. they’ve genuinely become a presence in each other’s lives outside of seungcheol’s assignment. he hasn’t gotten this close to someone before, not even his brothers.

it’s kind of amazing, honestly, considering how glaringly different they could be sometimes. they’re both passionately competitive when it comes to games, but it’s soonyoung who draws attention to himself in the arcade when he gets overly zealous over _dance dance revolution_. when jihoon says something remotely close to affectionate, soonyoung will repeat it back to him until he gets embarrassed. soonyoung can draw out the hidden playfulness in jihoon, but jihoon thinks it’s nice to let loose like that sometimes. they unintentionally match clothes from time to time, and while it exasperates jihoon, soonyoung will joke that he secretly likes it. jihoon scolds soonyoung for the tiger agenda he seems to be pushing oh-so fervently, but he doesn’t stop him completely, since he seems to be having fun (he went along with it one time, and it caught soonyoung by surprise).

still, they work really well together. jihoon thinks he’s taken the best pictures of his life with soonyoung. it’s fulfilling, encouraging; he’s never been this satisfied about the end results in a long time. if he was just a _decent_ photographer before, he’s definitely better now. his eyes that once followed the red strings in their surroundings are now trained to see his surroundings _and_ the red strings together in places of perfect harmony. _those_ make the perfect pictures.

he doesn’t want this type of improvement to be one-sided, though. he’s grown thanks to soonyoung, but he wonders if he was able to do the same thing to him. if he’d known him a year before, maybe in middle school, or perhaps even since childhood, he would have an answer, but he can only recall the past few months. still, he hopes that soonyoung doesn’t _mind_ him, that soonyoung _enjoys_ being around him as much as jihoon enjoys being around soonyoung.

the more he works with soonyoung, the more jihoon finds himself noticing his habits, his traits, his mannerisms, everything that makes soonyoung _soonyoung_. he knows what to correct, if there needs to be a correction; if someone doesn’t react to a joke as much as he thought, he’ll get sulky; and he’s actually kind of emotional. jihoon finds them all to be odd, surprising, and, dare he say, _attractive_. everything about him makes soonyoung an alluring character. soonyoung has a way of drawing attention to himself, and jihoon’s stuck in the thick of it.

but he involuntarily watches soonyoung, and when he catches himself, he immediately feels sheepish. he doesn’t get why, other than the reasoning that it’s just rude to stare. there’s a feeling that stirs a type of warmth his chest, something that he would sink into if he just knew _why_ it’s happening. his watch beeps to tell him that his heart rate’s gone up during times when he isn’t exerting any energy at all. at one point, jeonghan had pointed out how red his ears had become. jihoon had chalked it up to the fall weather, though. he’s so much more aware of himself when soonyoung is close, and when they were, it felt like the static you’d feel after rubbing a balloon through your hair. nothing about all of _that_ is entirely horrible, but it’s alarming just how often it happens, and it’s _only_ ever around soonyoung. it’s a persistent side effect of…

overall, they get along better than jihoon could have ever expected, so much so that he wonders if it’s right to do so. there friendship is rooted so deep that it feels like it belongs in its own world.

“i haven’t thought about it since the first day we met.” the words he eventually tells chan leaves something awful in his mouth. his younger brother seems disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything.

he knows that bitter taste all too well. jihoon tries to live his life honestly, but sometimes he tells a lie.

“to be honest, i’ve been thinking about it more and more everyday that it’s kind of scary. do normal people who can’t see anything feel like this all the time? this sense of uncertainty about someone? do they hope that their feelings are right? do they wish that this person is meant to be a part of their life? maybe i’m overthinking it…but because i can see all these strings, it’s so much more _confusing_.”

…is what jihoon would really like to say.

* * *

the amount of photos they can have in their portfolio is fifty, but they have around _five hundred_ of the thousands they took in their folder the day before the club is set to vote. soonyoung and jihoon decide to work overtime to finalize what they’re going to present, and when the rest of their club members leave for the day, they’re left all alone in the room, clicking away.

it’s a fairly civil discussion. jihoon likes some pictures more than soonyoung, and soonyoung like some pictures more than jihoon. they find their common ground on a majority of them, however, and they joke about how it’s because they’ve worked together so well that they have this issue now.

“we’re just too good at taking pictures!” soonyoung exclaims.

“yeah, funny how it’s a problem now.”

“it’s not a bad type of problem.”

“not at all. anyway, what about this one?”

the picture of jun and minghao that first gave them their project idea, the picture of vernon’s mesmerizing arc, and forty-eight more make it into the final cut. when they finish, they could see the sun making way for the moon through the room’s windows. they’re satisfied with their results, though, taking pride in the culmination of all their work.

soonyoung holds up his hand for a high five, and jihoon obliges. “we did it! the soonyoung-jihoon combo is unbeatable! we’re a dream team!”

“the soonyoung-jihoon combo…did you make that up just now?”

“yep!”

“it’s a bit long.”

“how about…‘howoo’?”

“‘heavy rain’?”

“no…?”

“a maybe.”

“i’ll take it.” after a few seconds, soonyoung yawns. before long, soonyoung’s head rests on jihoon’s shoulder, drifting into sleep almost immediately. it’s such a fast action that jihoon doesn’t even get to process it, and he’s unable to do anything about it.

…but he seems at peace like this. as heavy as he is on his shoulder, he’ll give him a ten minute nap. “good work, soonyoung,” jihoon mutters, letting it leave the echoing of his brain only because he knows soonyoung is a heavy sleeper.

the habit of staring at soonyoung’s string overtakes him again, but of course, nothing’s changed. it’s still the same broken string. it’s the same, but…

_…i wish it wasn’t._

something that bothered him just a little when he first saw it now _hurts_. it kills him that it leads nowhere. it leaves such a horrible feeling in him, an overwhelming sense of _selfishness_ engulfing him every time he fantasizes that it leads to _him_ , to jihoon. that greed has a name sitting at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t know if he can face it just yet.

foolishly, he picks it soonyoung’s string, and then his. what would happen if he tried to —

the two strings repel each other, like pairing up the same sides of two magnets. they don’t want to go near each other. it won’t work. he puts them down with a sigh.

_why did i even try? since when was i this stupid…_

* * *

“voting day is here!” seungcheol announces, gesturing to the screen behind him. “we’ll be voting individually. to keep it fair, you can’t vote for your own pair. everyone else is fair game. let’s get started!”

wonwoo and mingyu’s project consists of dogs and cats of all shapes and sizes. the dogs are running in fields of green, the cats curled up nicely on a velvet pillow. there’s pictures of the two interacting with each other, a sort of opposites attract kind of deal. “wonwoo and i volunteer at the same animal shelter!” mingyu explains. “so this type of thing came out naturally.”

seungcheol and seungkwan’s project is on…exercise. there’s pictures of hiking gear, of bikers, of those equipment you’d see at a park, and of a pilates class. there’s some photos of the school’s sports teams as well, such as the swim team and the track team. it feels like they’ve worked out alongside those athletes when looking at them.

jeonghan and joshua’s is of the different types of things available at a bakery. cakes upon cakes upon cakes are on display, followed by cupcakes, pies, pastries, and all that. there’s some shots of the equipment, some shots of the homely interior of a nearby bakery, and some of just people eating as well. the last few pictures is of the two of them having some sort of tea time together, macarons and other sweets piled high while they drink out of tea cups. “i…don’t know what i just saw in the last part,” seungcheol says, leading for some stifled laughs across the crowd, “but it feels like i just flipped through a recipe book that you two made.”

when it gets to soonyoung and jihoon’s, the room falls silent. they all stare as they look through their work. what were they thinking? did they like it, hate it? of course any artist would worry about such a thing, but all the work they’ve put it makes it all the more intense. it makes jihoon so nervous that he can’t bring himself to explain it; thankfully, soonyoung steps in. he’s seen those pictures a million times that instead he focuses on the paper in his hand to calm himself down.

the light flicks on a few minutes later, and the voting commences. the sound of pencils writing down a pair is so loud in jihoon’s ears that he doesn’t full register who he puts down in the end.

seungcheol gathers all the papers up, laying them on the front desk. it’s the moment of truth. he starts to read them out.

“alright. the first vote goes to…soonyoung and jihoon. the second vote goes to…soonyoung and jihoon. the third vote goes to…the same as before.” and so on and so forth. six votes out of eight were cast for soonyoung and jihoon.

they…won?

“wow, that was an overwhelming vote! but congratulations to you two. we’ll be submitting your portfolio to the end-of-the-year showcase. we couldn’t have picked a better project.” the claps ground jihoon, and when he looks around, he just sees his club members’ smiling faces.

_they liked it. hey, they_ liked _it…_

the reality of their win starts to sink in, and with it a bunch of revelations. _they liked our work, they liked the idea of it, they liked the red strings, they liked the effort we put into it…they liked it that much. they liked it as much as we did. they thought it was the best one._

all the time and energy and thought they put into it had not gone in vain. their peers thought they had the best chance of being picked and showcased. they were the ones representing their school’s photography club in front of the showcase’s committee. it was all so thrilling.

but what overwhelms that feeling is that at the root of it all, it was a reward for their _partnership_. the votes confirmed that the ‘soonyoung-jihoon combo’ was, indeed, a dream team. the joy of it all finally hits him, and he can’t help but smile.

“so who voted for who?” jeonghan asks. “since you couldn’t vote for yourselves?”

“i voted for the mingyu and wonwoo’s!” yeah, soonyoung seemed like the type to go for the animals.

jihoon tries to recall the results, and when he remembers the other pair mentioned, it’s something that surprises him deeply. “i…voted for jeonghan and joshua’s.”

“did the power of exercise not move _any_ of you?” seungcheol frowns. “well, i guess i have some _adjustments_ to make to our end-of-the-year trip…”

the sound of seungcheol’s stern voice makes seungkwan visibly worried. “hyung, i was partners with you. please spare me.”

* * *

jihoon’s barely made it to the top of the school’s staircase when soonyoung almost tackles him. he apologizes, but before jihoon could tell him to watch out next time, he blurts out, “seungcheol just texted me and said the committee picked us! they picked our project! we’re going to be in the showcase!”

the words hit him slowly — _it’s the morning, why is he so loud? seungcheol…committee…picked…showcase. seungcheol texted…committee picked us…our project…in the showcase…in the showcase —_

“holy shit. _holy shit_.” _now_ he’s awake. jihoon takes a look at soonyoung’s face, brimming with excitement. he can’t help but match it. “we did? seriously? that’s great news!”

so the committee liked their project too… _their_ project. soonyoung and jihoon’s. their collaboration. it’s the ‘soonyoung-jihoon combo’ again, isn’t it? the more results they reap from their partnership, the more this dream team climbs up jihoon’s list of important, memorable things. it was special what they’ve done, what they _could_ do in the future…

“we need to celebrate in some way…i know! let’s ditch school.”

“…what?”

“all this time and i haven’t actually been to the art museum where they’ll _have_ the showcase. it’s open, right?”

“well, when it turns eight in a few minutes, but — ”

“okay, so let’s go!”

jihoon’s never ditched school before, and his pretty decent grades can attest to that. it’s just that he’s just never _thought_ about it. then again, he didn’t have anyone like soonyoung to coax him into such an adventure, especially one this spontaneous. he didn’t take soonyoung to be the type to ditch, either, since he’s present at the club as much as jihoon (minus that sick day). but hey, you learn something new every day.

he’s down those stairs again, racing through the gates of their school’s entrance and to the nearest bus stop that’ll take them to the art museum. when they get on the right one (double checking the number and destination to be sure — soonyoung’s gotten them lost in transit before), they sit at the back of the bus, taking in the low hum of its engine. for a brief moment, there’s quiet.

is it odd to say that if it’s soonyoung, he doesn’t mind this rogue journey at all? that because it’s soonyoung, he doesn’t feel as much dread missing an entire day of school? in fact, he’s even _excited_ , his heart _anticipating_ what comes next. it was a moment between the two of them and the two of them _only_ , a rendezvous that only he and soonyoung will share.

_…i kinda like that._

“have you ditched before?” thank god soonyoung said something before jihoon’s brain could explode trying to figure out his last thought. jihoon shakes his head. with a rather proud voice, soonyoung says, “i did — once.”

“oh really? what’d you do?”

“i was really young, but i skipped school to go see a movie.”

“you’re not going to _tell_ me the name of the movie?”

“do you really want to know?”

“well since you’re mentioning the time you’ve ditched, then _yes_.”

“it was _cars_.”

“ _cars_? as in the movie with lightning mcqueen…? you skipped school to watch _cars_?”

“i shouldn’t have told you. now you’re going to make fun of me.”

“no, no, i won’t, i promise. you know that.”

“you mean it?”

“…it’s a little bit funny, though.”

“you know what was awful about it? i spent _all_ my allowance money to go buy a ticket for it. when i went inside the theater, i didn’t have money for popcorn, candy, anything!”

“wow, that’s unfortunate.”

“jihoon, that sounds very sarcastic. i was very sad about it.”

“well you skipped school to watch _cars_ — ”

“okay, yes, that’s been established!”

“your parents found out eventually, right? they would have called because you were marked absent.”

“…yeah, they did. they grounded me for a month. no video games.”

“well i guess you were pretty brave to go ditch in the first place. it came out a while ago, didn’t it? you were _very_ young.”

“thanks, it was the scariest thing a young soonyoung could possibly do! but it was worth it.”

“yeah, _cars_ is a _great_ movie.”

soonyoung couldn’t whine about jihoon’s teasing when he saw the art museum through the windows. he immediately presses the stop button (there was yet another incident where soonyoung forgot to do that and they had to walk for fifteen minutes after getting off the bus three stops past their destination), and the two of them get off right in front of it.

the lobby is the first thing they see, a rather spacious yet barren space, the desk in the middle the only thing that kept it from being completely empty. with the showcase coming up, however, it makes sense that not a lot of things are around.

“so this is where our project will be displayed…” soonyoung says, marveling at the possibilities of where it’ll be. “front and center, very obvious, and in your face!”

“we’re not the _only_ ones that are being showcased.”

“i know, but it feels like it.” soonyoung looks at jihoon and smiles. “since we _made_ that project, the fact that it’ll _be_ here will make it stand out.”

“i see what you mean.” and he does, really. “but do we plan on just standing here, or should we go around and check the exhibits?”

they pay the admission fee at the desk (and since they’re students, they get discounts, although the lady seemed thoroughly confused at what they were doing there and not at school) before heading to the left into the first room.

there are six rooms in total, but most of the stuff is something jihoon’s seen already. he’s acquainted with this painting and that sculpture and the display over there. he knows the names of everything and what it says on the informational plaque. the art museum was a popular destination for the elementary school field trips, especially around the time the showcase is running.

the familiarity of it all led to jihoon eyeing soonyoung’s string once again, bringing back the memory of his brief idiocy when he tried to tie his and soonyoung’s together. it was not his finest moment, and he still feels the embarrassment now. he follows it from one display to another, from one room to another, finding its presence all the more _annoying_.

why did it have to be broken? why did _his_ have to be broken? life would be easier if they were both connected somewhere, _anywhere_. he wished their strings trailed behind them, leaving some sort of path. it’s so painful being so unsure of who they were supposed to be connected to — it’s even worse when jihoon once again thinks about that _one_ possibility that _they_ were once connected. the idea of it sends jihoon into a flurry of battling thoughts and emotions.

say that they _were_ connected — what would he think of it, of the two of them tied together? a part of him…doesn’t _hate_ it. it might even be one of the best outcomes. he enjoys soonyoung’s company. if there was something more to it, _if_ they were meant to spent a lifetime together…he could see it.

_but what if there’s two other people out there with broken strings like ourselves?_ he hates that he can get so selfishly absorbed in that previous fantasy. maybe it’s just a coincidence that they’ve met and they’ve got broken strings. maybe there’s someone in their futures that _is_ their rightful other half. if he does something now, it would lead to a catastrophic heartbreak. the vagueness of his broken string wouldn’t promise him someone better, and that’s absolutely scary.

he’s angry, angry at his younger self for ever letting this happen. if he hadn’t climbed that tree, if he hadn’t fallen, if he hadn’t severed these ties…all of these thoughts wouldn’t be plaguing him, causing him headaches and, at times, some sleepless nights. these feelings he has for soonyoung — _god, and that in itself is so confusing_ — would make sense. he would be able to discern what to do and what not to do. he would know whether or not to act on them.

_do i want to act on them anyway?_

his gaze leaves that irritating string and finds it way to soonyoung’s face. he’s looking at a painting of…a tiger. well, it suits him, and he seems really into it. there’s a sense of child-like wonder that makes him glow in the most delicate way. jihoon finds him wonderfully handsome and cute at the same time, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

this was someone dear to jihoon’s heart. jihoon so desperately hopes that he stays, but he wonders if fate will listen to his such a selfish request.

* * *

_damn, i’m running late. why’d my brothers have to take a picture with me? they see me everyday, anyway._

the end-of-the-year showcase is a formal event, and seokmin and chan were more than thrilled to see their oldest brother wearing a suit and tie, hair styled with so much product that jihoon wonders how much shampoo it’ll take to get it all off. they took about a billion pictures _each_ , sending it in their group chat over and over and over again.

he spots soonyoung right away when he gets to the art museum. when they meet, soonyoung tugs on the sleeve of his suit. “hey, we’re kind of matching, aren’t we?”

“hm.” jihoon takes a second to look at the slight difference he could see. “sort of. mine is black and yours is a really deep navy blue.”

even if they’re practically in the same outfit and hairstyle, soonyoung seemed to…stand out. everyone else was in such fancy clothing, but jihoon could only look at _him_. he couldn’t help but think about just how good he looked and how his heart felt like it was going to explode because of it. his brain felt like a computer overheating — and god, his face was _literally_ overheating, so much so that it was downright uncomfortable. so many things were happening and he’d _just_ gotten there. can this feeling stop for just one night? he wants to enjoy all of their hard work.

but it only gets worse when soonyoung wraps his arm around jihoon’s, bringing them oh-so close together in a way that pretty much drove that emotion into overdrive. everything was so intense and so loud, like it was telling jihoon it wasn’t going to quit anytime soon.

however, what had transpired registers a little too late. they were already at the door when he realizes soonyoung’s practically dragging him. in any other instance he would tell him what’s on his mind ( _why are you holding my arm like this what was the reason i don’t get it you’re so weird are you gonna let me go but not really i kind of like it oh thank god this is in my mind and i didn’t actually say this out loud_ ), but in a rather… _serious_ event, he chooses to pick up his weight and bear it.

“…wow.” the same word comes out of both of their mouths when they see everything on display at the showcase. every piece of art vied for their attention, shouting at them with colors and design and technique. they were all so professional and mesmerizing that it took them a minute to remember they were in the lobby and not at another room in the art museum.

“let’s find ours!” soonyoung’s feet begin to move, and jihoon resigns to following him as best he can. they’re not too different in height, but the length of their legs means he’s walking just a bit more.

to think that their work was somewhere beside all the others here, considered to be at the same caliber. as everything whizzes by his line of sight, jihoon can’t help but feel the pride in their project overflowing, amazed that they were able to stand among such phenomenal pieces of art. there’s gratitude for his club members for bringing their work up to this point. he reminds himself that once they’re done finding theirs to go take a look at the others. he’d like to admire each and every single one of them.

their photos are surrounded by two other paintings, one from the same school as them. all fifty pictures were printed and placed on the wall, lights shining down on them from a fixture up above. seeing all of them there was simply mind-blowing. these were the results of millions of thoughts and discussions. they were the representation of everything they had to offer. and there were all the red strings they drew, boasting their presence in each picture.

they had one of those informational cards — ‘kwon soonyoung and lee jihoon, _x_ high school. title: _red strings of fate_ ’. that’s one jihoon’s never seen before, and it’s his new favorite.

“we could have thought of a more creative title,” jihoon jokes. “this one’s a little straightforward.”

“jihoon.”

soonyoung’s voice is noticeably serious, and the grip around jihoon’s arm tightens, bordering so tight that it might cut off the blood flow. jihoon looks to see if he can find any sort of trace on soonyoung’s face as to why he’d gotten so solemn, but he’s just looking at their pictures. he won’t see him eye to eye. it’s a little worrisome.

“soonyoung — ”

“you meant what you said, right? about still being friends even when we’re standing here now in front of our finished product?”

“of course.” he finds his hand unconsciously reaching for soonyoung’s hand, holding onto it and hoping it conveys his utmost sincerity. right now, he has no time to feel embarrassed, but his ears start to turn red. “i really meant that. i got to know you through this project and you’re a really good friend to me now, soonyoung.”

soonyoung holds jihoon’s hand back, and that first touch sends the biggest shock through jihoon’s body. it paralyzes him, makes him wonder what they were doing…but the feeling was like fitting two puzzle pieces together, a feeling that it was all _right_.

soonyoung finally turns to him, and his smile is back. “thanks. i’m really glad we’re friends. we’ll come up with a better title next time.”

their broken strings are a persistent sight to jihoon, but inside he feels the desire to defy them.

* * *

seungcheol meant what he said about upping the ante of their end-of-the-year club trip, a two day and one night excursion that always depends on the president’s whims. they hiked up the tallest mountain he could possibly find, stopping every few miles or so to stretch and to hear him lecture about staying healthy. “i’m doing this for your own good!” he told them. “we’re getting older, so we need to watch over our health more.”

despite seungkwan’s pleas, he was not exempt from all the exercise.

they put down all their camping gear once they reached the campsite seungcheol had reserved for them at the very top of the mountain. jihoon thanks anyone that was listening for the fact that there’s eight of them to carry all their stuff. he throws down the backpack with his things and one of the tents on the ground before he lies down, staring at the bright blue sky.

spring was just around the corner, and it meant the seniors were graduating soon. these trips were usually the place where the president and vice president passed on their titles. picking was a very secretive process — within the past week, any underclassmen seen a mere ten feet away from the seniors were shooed away to make sure they couldn’t hear the decisions being made.

jihoon thinks the most likely choice for president is soonyoung. he’s the most inventive and the most out-going, as well as about a hundred other positive qualities. he’s a natural fit for it. wonwoo could be the vice president. he’s the most organized and he’s been in the club for two years now, so he knows what to do.

“well that took all day,” jeonghan wheezes, sitting on a tree stump. “the sun’s already setting.”

“i’m hungry, too.” mingyu got the hardest job — dragging the cart of food and cooking supplies through hundreds of feet. that, and he’s one of the few that could cook up something actually _edible_. it’s unfortunate that he lost that game of rock-paper-scissors at the bottom of the mountain, but he’ll be getting the largest servings tonight.

seungcheol, mingyu, and seungkwan get to preparing and cooking the food, while jeonghan and joshua go out to look for some firewood. the second years are tasked with setting up the two tents, each one able to fit four of them. wonwoo comments about how the sleeping situation is trouble if someone moves around a lot; soonyoung laughs sheepishly, apologizing in advance.

it takes a good hour and a half before they can all sit down and eat, their portions double the amount of people there. the only thing left in the cart is snacks and a light breakfast for tomorrow, making sure they had enough fuel to go back down the mountain.

once they were done, they lit their campfire. the crackling wood and the smell of smoke were familiar to jihoon. he doesn’t get why the presidents always picked some crazy camping trip when these came around, but it’s a nice atmosphere after a long year of taking pictures. it was relaxing.

the first thing they do is play some games, notably _a lot_ of mafia. jihoon is picked as mafia for the first game, but he’s killed off in the first round for being too quiet. jihoon is a civilian for the second game, but he’s killed off in the second round for being slightly more talkative.

“i don’t get if you want me to talk or not!” jihoon crosses his arms with a huff. “both options just get me killed. i haven’t even gotten to play properly.”

in the third game he’s a civilian once more, and they keep him until the second-to-last round.

they move on to making s’mores, adding a twist to it by making one for the person to their left. jihoon ends up having to make one for seungcheol, and he gets one from mingyu. “sorry, hyung,” he says when he hands jihoon a s’more with the graham cracker cracked in half on both sides. the marshmallow and chocolate spilling out on all sides, too. “i pressed too hard.”

“that’s alright.” jihoon still eats it. it’s a s’more.

the next activity were a bunch of scary stories, and it turns out mingyu and soonyoung were very easily startled. the slightest sound from the campfire or some squirrel scurrying across the ground would send them clinging onto the person next to them. joshua had told a story that was the plot of a well-known horror movie and the two _still_ got scared. “it makes sense that they haven’t seen ‘it’,” he says, “but you heard me say ‘clown’ a hundred times and still didn’t pick up on anything?”

and at last, it was time for the big announcement. seungcheol and joshua stand up, proudly looking at the rest of them. joshua talked about how great it was to be vice president and how he was going to miss them all. he says he’ll be going to america for college so he won’t be around as much, but he’ll be sure to send them lots of messages and pictures. finally, he announces the next vice president — soonyoung.

_soonyoung?_ jihoon takes a look over at him, and he seems just as surprised, although he happily accepts it and hopes that he’ll live up to the role. vice president…it’s a good position, but then who’s the one they picked for president?

“i know you hear this sort of things a lot of times, but it was really fun being your president.” seungcheol gives jihoon no time to think about the other possibilities, diving into his own speech. “seeing you all work hard at your craft is truly inspiring, and it motivates me to do the same. you guys should be really proud about what you’ve all accomplished. i know you’ll all keep doing great things. i’ll be in college a couple towns over with jeonghan, but give us a call and we’ll come right back if you need us. or just call us in general to talk! now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for — your president for next year.”

he leaves them in silence for what feels like centuries, and he seems to find it amusing. they’ve picked up on every possible sound around them when he finally points to someone.

“jihoon, you’re steadfast and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. you’re the most reliable person out there, working hard in everything you do. we’ve seen how dedicated you are these past two years, so…” seungcheol draws it out just a little bit. “we’ve picked you as the next president. you and soonyoung will make a great team, as we’ve seen before. i know you’ll take the club to a new level.”

it’s the most unexpected result, and jihoon wonders if seungcheol will say it’s a joke. all at once, the weight of that responsibility settles on him, all the paperwork and planning and making sure everyone’s the right track. it’s a lot of things, and although he’s intimidated…

soonyoung is his vice president, and there’s all the others to help out. he feels it in their warm gazes and the way they all cheer for him. there’s mutual support between all of them, and it’s a powerful thing. jihoon _wants_ to see them all succeed; he knows just how talented each of them are. he wants to yield the president’s power in that direction. he can do this. he _will_ do this.

he thanks them all, thanks seungcheol the most for giving him the opportunity. “i know you may still be in shock, but you were an easy pick,” he tells jihoon before heading into his tent. “good leaders are always open to growing, and you’ve grown _a lot_ this year. i’m more than happy that i’m passing the club onto you.”

the rest of them turn in until it’s just soonyoung and jihoon, sitting around the the campfire that’s now just ashes on the ground. there’s no problem in seeing their surroundings thanks to the bright stars and the shining full moon.

“see?” jihoon’s elbow nudges soonyoung in a playful manner. “we’re still friends, and now we’re the president and vice president of our club.”

“i have to admit, i can’t wait to see what you’ll do.” soonyoung’s words make jihoon all the more excited to take on the job. “just don’t think about doing a trip like _this_.”

“i’m not planning to. instead, maybe we should do something like exploring an abandoned building at night? i think it would be fun.”

“i’ll quit the club if you do.”

“then i wouldn’t have a vice president.”

“haha, i guess i can’t leave you hanging there, huh? anyway…i’m glad we’re doing something together again, and for a whole year, too. our project only lasted a couple of months.”

“we’re not exempt from club activities. we have that, too.”

“right, all those things, too.” soonyoung sighs. “compared to the beginning of the year, we’re different people, huh.”

“yeah, we are.”

“and we’ll be different people in the future, too.”

“yep.”

“that’ll be exciting.”

crickets. minutes pass without a single word. soonyoung scratches the back of his head, saying, “you know, with the stars and all that, aren’t we supposed to say more cheesy things, like in the movies? i think that went by pretty fast.”

jihoon can’t help but laugh, although he tries to stop himself quickly so he doesn’t wake up the others. “you could say that. but god, seungcheol put us through a lot today that i don’t have the energy for that type of thing.”

the thought of the future is daunting, but the reassurance that soonyoung will be there makes it easier for jihoon to brave it all. these were promises made in reality, right now in their own words. and the most gratifying part of it all is that the broken red strings looked _false_ ; it seems like jihoon and soonyoung are connected in some way, making up for fate’s lack of appearance.

it’s a little thrilling, this defiance of all the red strings around him. maybe they aren’t connected in _that_ way, but they’ve assured their willingness to stay by each other’s side in their present and near future. ten, thirty, twenty years from now seems like nothing — but if soonyoung is no where to be found then, well…while it would sting, he could still reminisce on these times, these moments of bliss. he think it’s better to have something that might last for a little bit than to not have anything at all.

in the end, soonyoung will always be important to him. that’s all jihoon could ever ask for. their eyes drift back up to the night sky, relishing in their shared silence. jihoon likes it all. jihoon likes —

* * *

the realization hits jihoon when he’s cleaning up their empty club room. for the underclassmen, today was their last time seeing the room until next school year; for the seniors, it’s their last time seeing it _ever_ , unless they plan to visit. their graduation is tomorrow.

the red string between seungcheol and jeonghan had been obvious since jihoon’s first day in the club. although jeonghan spent most of his time with joshua, it always seemed like there was a connection between him and seungcheol that just couldn’t be ignored. they’re friends for sure, but the idea of being more than that is something that hasn’t been given much thought. now they’ll be off to the same college, even planning on rooming together. jihoon supposes that fate will finally do something then.

if they saw the red string, would they be closer than they are now? would they actually _be_ together? would jeonghan spend more time with seungcheol because of it? then what would have become of joshua? if he were _just_ jeonghan’s neighbor and not a very close friend, jeonghan wouldn’t have nagged him to join the photography club — would joshua have joined at all? would he still pick up photography as a hobby? would he ever become vice president of their club?

if the red string was visible, their present reality might have unraveled — it might have never existed. everything that led up to where they were now would have been completely different. joshua wouldn’t be there to be partners with jeonghan which means jihoon might not have been partners with soonyoung which means —

seungcheol and jeonghan’s obliviousness to their red string is what led to the past, to soonyoung and jihoon being partners on their project — and it’s led to the future as well, to jihoon and soonyoung being the next president and vice president. it’s led to jihoon being _hopeful_ for what’s to come because of it.

he used to envy the connection people had with their red strings, but now he envies the fact that they can’t see them at all. their blindness to it allows them to fall in love with the wrong person, to learn how to move on, to believe in the idea that there must be someone else out there. because they don’t know for sure who’s on the other side, people don’t hesitate to reach out to as many people as they can, to see just who might come their way next. there’s no hinderance, no second thoughts. that invisible string provides the experience of being in people’s lives and having people be a part of yours.

he’s looked forward to no one because of his broken string, and for the first time, he really appreciates it. if it were still there, he would have hesitated being partners with soonyoung, getting as close to him as he did. he wouldn’t have grown at all. he would have been following the string’s trail, untangling it delicately, never once considering welcoming soonyoung into his life. what kind of future would that have been like?

he probably wouldn’t have been picked president.

he wouldn’t have felt the whirlwind of emotions that soonyoung had introduced him to, either. he wouldn’t have known the sound of his heart beating right in his ears, or the feeling of blood rushing to his cheeks and painting it a light pink. he wouldn’t have known what it was like to feel so much for someone, to yearn to have someone by your side. he wouldn’t have known just how addicting a single touch could be.

he wouldn’t have known what love is at all.

everything that had filled his chest and heart and entire body makes sense with a single word. all the things he’s done, all the things he’s said…ah, he’s hilariously oblivious. it really took him this long.

it’s thanks to that broken string that he feels this way, that he’s even gotten to opportunity to feel love for the very first time. but fate might be asking him about what’s next. what’s he going to do with this new information? will he do anything at all?

their strings may not give away anything, but jihoon doesn’t care. they mean nothing to him as long as they’re broken. whatever happens, happens — and he’ll grow from it all. but right now there’s a feeling that just can’t be ignored. he throws himself into the one certainty in his mind.

_i’m in love with soonyoung._

* * *

“good work today.”

“yeah, you too.”

soonyoung and jihoon sit at the _very_ top of the staircase — the third floor, the place where all the third years’ classes reside. it’s their hallway next year. they sift through the numerous photos on their cameras. the photography club’s last job is always the school’s graduation.

“i can’t believe they’ve finally graduated.” soonyoung shakes his head, trying to get it to set in. “i’ve only known them for a year, but i’ll miss them. you’re going to the airport to send joshua off, right?”

“of course. i wouldn’t miss it.”

“and the train station to send off seungcheol and jeonghan?”

“i wouldn’t miss that, either.”

“hm. and after that, it’s our turn.”

“hey, don’t get too ahead of yourself. we still got a whole year to go through first.” the thought of it makes jihoon a little dizzy. “although you’re right. i guess i should at least start thinking of something.”

“are you looking forward to it?”

“yeah, it’ll be fun. i’m excited to work with you again.”

“about that…”

_about that_? jihoon leans in closer, although soonyoung doesn’t say anything for a bit. he waits, outwardly patient but practically screaming inside. is he having second thoughts about being vice president? is he thinking of no longer being part of the club? is he transferring? they’re all such grave circumstances, and surely he could think of better ones, but as soonyoung continues to stay silent, all those thoughts make him nervous —

“there’s something that might bother me about it.” uh oh. that doesn’t sound good. jihoon finally finds it in himself to lean away, feeling the need to compose and mentally prepare himself. soonyoung’s grasping for something. “working together, that is.”

“ah.” that’s the worst thing he could possibly hear. “soonyoung…whatever it is, you can say it. we can try and work it out — ”

“i really like you, jihoon.”

_…what did he just say?_

soonyoung continues. “i don’t know when it started, but when i realized it, i found that i liked you _a lot_. you’re constantly in my head and getting the best of me and making me nervous and making me happy and making me do all these crazy things and making me hope i could be someone important to you and…i probably sounded creepy talking about being friends for a long time but that was because i was hoping that someday we would be more than that. i didn’t know _when_ , but all i knew was that i wanted you. i know it’s all sudden but the more i thought about the fact that we’d be spending a lot of time together because of our duties to the club next year i figured that i would go crazy thinking about you and falling more and more in love with you. i don’t know what else to say…i really like — i really _love_ you, jihoon. i love you so much it feels like i’m going to explode.”

he stops right there, his eyes shining with the greatest intensity that jihoon’s ever seen… _like a tiger looking at its prey — god, jihoon, are_ you _the prey?_

so it was reciprocated all along. soonyoung felt the same way _all along_. soonyoung was in love with jihoon… _all. along._

what was happening? is he allowed to be this happy?

before jihoon could say anything, though, soonyoung gets up. “i’ll go put my camera away. i know i dumped all of that on you but, um…i’ll let you think about it. i’ll be in the club room.”

and just like that, he vanishes, leaving jihoon alone to take in everything he’d just said.

or so he thought.

“wow, hyung…that was the most passionate confession i’d ever seen.” seokmin appears at the bottom of the stairs that soonyoung had just taken. he climbs up, standing just a few steps away from his big brother. “so what are you going to say?”

“what are you doing here?” seokmin’s presence perplexes him. of all people, why him? “wait, you heard all of that? were you _eavesdropping_?”

“i was going to tell you something that i’ve been meaning to tell you for a really long time, but i came…at an interesting time, i guess you could say. i didn’t want to interrupt.”

“well…what were you going to say?”

“what are _you_ going to say?”

“why does it matter?”

“because…hyung. look.”

seokmin draws jihoon’s attention to what he was holding in his hand — a really long red string.

_don’t tell me — ?_

“the first time i saw what you and chan were seeing was when you came home after you’d broken your string. i couldn’t believe it for the longest time…and because of it, i’ve put off telling you guys. it would feel like i was making it up. it’s only when i passed by _that guy_ a few days ago and saw _that guy’s_ broken string that i realized i was seeing things correctly. i could finally believe it.”

“wait, but then doesn’t that mean — ?”

“yeah. i can fix them, too.” seokmin’s smile holds so much enthusiasm in it, something a big brother could always look fondly upon. “hyung, isn’t that great? that i’m one of the few that could tie broken strings back together?”

“seokmin.” jihoon stands up, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “thanks for telling me. i know you of all people will do a good job tying strings when you need to.”

“well…” seokmin takes a look at the red string in his hand, and then at jihoon’s broken one. “you two belong together. i can see it.”

this was a moment jihoon never thought could ever happen. the very thought of it washes away years and years of jihoon’s grievances about his uncertain future. the opportunity for his string to be tied back to its missing half, for the moments of assurance he’d feel knowing someone was on the other side…it’s all present in the string in seokmin’s hand. it was jihoon’s fate.

…but does he _need_ it?

“seokmin. don’t.”

“don’t?”

“don’t tie them together.”

his brother blinks back at him, startled, and he looks at jihoon’s face for some sort of reason. what seokmin finds is his resolve, his bravery — it’s a strong affirmation of…something. he may not get it completely, but he doesn’t want to trifle with jihoon’s certainty.

jihoon lets out a sigh of relief when seokmin nods. “thank you. i’m sorry, though, since you didn’t get to fix anything.”

“yeah, maybe next time.” seokmin pauses. “wait, that would mean another pair of…you know what? i think i’ve seen enough red strings for a while. but, hyung…how’d you figure it out without your string?”

“how’d i figure out what?”

“that it’s _that_ guy?”

“hmm…fate.”

“it’s in your favor, huh?”

“yep, and that’s why i don’t need it to be fixed.”

seokmin let’s go of the string in his hand, and it pulls back, receding like waves on the beach. jihoon follows it, but only because he’s going in the same direction. he keeps the same pace as it slithers down the stairs and into the hallway he’s walked through a million times. it’s something that he could see from the corner of his eye, but not once in their journey does he _deliberately_ look down at the string. there’s no reason to keep his eyes on it anymore.

the string stops at the photography club’s room and disappears. an invisible string in his heart is the only thing that ties them together, and it’s one he ardently vows never to break. jihoon opens the door and calls out his name.

“soonyoung!”

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while, hasn't it? i hope you're all still doing well despite the circumstances.
> 
> i thought this was going to be something short, but it ended up...like this. it's not a lot compared to many others, but it's a lot to me considering how i lose steam easily, lol. i actually spent a couple days on this! i like it, though. i hope you liked it, too.
> 
> it looks like i've written something for each jp comeback this year...maybe i'll post something again for their next one haha. but yeah, 24h was a heavy influence on this. that, and the song that's also the title. i think it's my favorite off of folklore.
> 
> thank you for reading and getting this far!
> 
> btw my favorite part is their cars movie conversation. idk why but it is


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